Bedtime Stories
by CruorLuna
Summary: Disney meets NCIS. We have humour, we have romance, we have friendship, we have fluff. And hopefully, we'll have fun, too! Something easy to read, hence the title ; All characters; a mixture of pairings - no slash. Because .. it's Disney!
1. Something There

**Summary:** Disney meets NCIS. We have humour, we have romance, we have friendship, we have fluff. We have very little angst, for a change. And hopefully, we'll have fun, too!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing recognisable as belonging to Bellasario and/or Walt Disney. And/or Warner Bros. Since I fail at sticking to Disney. Whoops.

**A/N:** Cough. I know I shouldn't start MORE fics until the ones I've already started are done, but I can't seem to help it! And this one is not – I repeat, **not** – going to be a priority. I just want to be able to go off and write something FUN every so often. And what's more fun than Disney? A couple of these won't actually be Disney songs, but they'll be from animated kids' movies nonetheless, and I'll say when that's the case. These will all be oneshots and follow no order whatsoever except that they'll follow the order the ideas come to me.

Just to stress – this is something not to be taken too seriously, and I have no intention of promising updates at any specific times, or anything of the sort. There won't be any use in asking for updates because I just don't have the energy for this to turn into another fic that I feel pressured to update more often or more quickly than I can. It's there for fun – both mine and yours, and so I hope you can just enjoy reading it and let me enjoy writing it, as and when it comes along. Thanks :)

This first one is Jibbs – but I promise, there will be a wide mixture of things in here as well!! And this one goes to **a'serene** – you know why, and I appreciate it! Enjoy :)

* * *

**Something There  
****From Disney's **_**Beauty And The Beast**_

_Belle:  
__There's something sweet, and almost kind  
__But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined  
__And now he's dear  
__And so I'm sure  
__I wonder why I didn't see it there before_

_Beast:  
__She glanced this way, I thought I saw  
__And when we touched she didn't shudder at my paw  
__No, it can't be  
__I'll just ignore  
__But then she's never looked at me that way before_

_Belle:  
__New, and a bit alarming  
__Who'd have ever thought that this could be?  
__True, that he's no Prince Charming  
__But there's something in him that I simply didn't see_

_Others:  
__Well who'd have thought?  
Well bless my soul  
__Well who'd have known?  
__Well who indeed?  
__And who'd have guessed they'd come together on their own?  
__It's so peculiar_

_We'll wait and see, a few days more  
__There may be something there that wasn't there before  
__You know, perhaps there's something there that wasn't there before  
__There may be something there that wasn't there before_

* * *

Jenny Shepard frowned in the direction of the currently unoccupied desk that belonged to her boss. She was never in before Gibbs. **Never**. Well, except for that one time when all of the baristas in DC had gone on strike and he had had to wait over an hour for his coffee in the morning. She let out an involuntary shudder at the memory. That had not been a good day for Jenny or Stan. Decker had actually dared to stand up to him, but Lord knew why. All it had won them was an extra three hours' work for impertinence. Jenny glowered to herself now. Will could be a real pain sometimes.

She sat up slightly straighter as she saw the elevator doors slide open and the man himself exit, not sporting his usual glare, and bearing not one, but **two** cups of freshly brewed Jamaican blend from his 'place' around the corner. She swallowed slightly. Two cups of coffee in one go? That had to mean trouble in the world according to Gibbs, although she hadn't yet been a resident for long enough to know whether this was World War Three or just a mild earthquake. She then felt her eyes practically pop out of her head when he stopped in front of her desk and held one of the Styrofoam cups out to her.

"What's this?" she asked suspiciously, reaching hesitantly towards it. He quirked an eyebrow down at her.

"Coffee," he said plainly, as she continued to scrutinise him.

"Why?" she asked doubtfully.

"You want it or not, Shepard?" he asked exasperatedly, and she shrugged.

"Sure," she said, seeming convinced that he hadn't poisoned the drink. She grasped it in her hand, her fingers brushing against his as he passed the cup to her, and for just a moment she could swear she saw something flash in his eyes. Before she had time to contemplate it, however, it was gone; his features schooled back into their usual closed expression, and he was turning away from her, shrugging off his trademark trench coat and settling himself behind his desk for another long, boring day of paperwork. She watched him thoughtfully for a few moments until he glanced up, catching her in the act. She ducked her head in embarrassment, but not before noting the smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips.

This wasn't normal, she thought to herself, shaking her head bewilderedly as she sipped on the perfectly-brewed coffee he had brought to her. Gibbs didn't bring coffee; didn't wait to actually ask if you wanted it; didn't _smile_. She thought the smiling was confusing her more than anything else. And yet … it wasn't the first time lately he had been smiling for no apparent reason, she realised in retrospect. He had been slowly but surely relaxing around the team; around her. For the life of her she couldn't think why. It could have been that he was getting used to being single again; having finally settle on Diane's idea of a 'compromise,' which, from what Jenny could gather, entailed her giving up her notion of taking his house, but draining him of pretty much everything else they had ever shared. She certainly sounded like a charming woman. Jenny had a few choice words she'd love to share with her, should they ever happen to meet. And it made sense that Gibbs was feeling more relaxed now that his divorce was through and he was free from her. But this seemed like something more than that. It wasn't just calmer, it was … nicer? It was very, very strange, whatever it was.

Gibbs knew he had failed miserably at concealing his smile, but decided it was worth it, if only to see the charming blush creep across her cheeks, clashing horribly with her hair and yet somehow managing to look endearing. And he had caught her staring at him, which was an added bonus, as far as he was concerned. Since before his divorce had gone through – ah, hell, who was he trying to kid? Since the day she had started working with him – he had found himself inexplicably drawn to Jenny Shepard. Well, maybe not **totally** inexplicably. She did have red hair. Soulful green eyes. Long, shapely legs. Perfectly pouted lips … He shook himself, mentally noting to give himself a head slap for good measure once he was alone.

But being married, he never, ever would have acted on his desires. And she was a colleague – a subordinate, come to that. He still should really be thinking about acting on his impulses. But he was. And Jenny seemed to have warmed to him, ever since … well, ever since he had started treating her like a human being, he supposed. He had been trying to do the occasional nice thing, just to see how she would take it. She had been rightly suspicious when he had brought her coffee, he figured. She probably didn't trust him not to have spiked it, or worse. She probably had a fair point, actually. But he wouldn't do that. Well, he would, but not to her. And he hadn't even had to convince her, not really. She had looked at him like he was crazy – something that he was beginning to think himself, if he were honest – but she had accepted the drink nonetheless. And he didn't think he was the only one who had felt the shock go through him when their fingers brushed.

And now he had found her watching him, and not just suspiciously. More like … curiously. Interestedly. Possibly something more. He wasn't quite sure. It wasn't an expression he thought he had ever seen on her face before, and though he would never admit it aloud, it filled him with something that he almost dared to call … hope. And that scared him. That scared him quite a bit, actually.

Jenny smothered a grin and took a large gulp of her surprise coffee. She could practically see the wheels turning in her boss' head. And she definitely had not imagined the way he had been looking at her when he thought she didn't see him from the corner of her eye. Oh, she'd seen him, all right. She'd seen the way his eyes – almost subconsciously, it appeared – had traversed her body and the smirk that had crossed his face as he blatantly checked her out. If it were anyone else, she'd have shot them already. But Gibbs … she didn't know how to explain it. She supposed she had discovered that she didn't **mind** when Gibbs checked her out. In fact she rather liked it. She half-laughed to herself. This was certainly an interesting development. She snuck another glance in his direction and found him watching her again, ducking his head once he realised he had been seen. She bit her lip and raised her coffee cup to her lips again, taking the chance to look **him** up and down. Two could play at that game. And she would bet good money that she could get him to break first.

William Decker came up behind his partner, leaning on the railings outside MTAC and looking down at their boss and third team member. Stan Burley turned to him, a wicked grin on his face, and Will rolled his eyes.

"What are you up to, Burley?"

"I got fifty bucks says they're sleeping together by the end of the month," Stan smirked. Decker raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking down to the bullpen again.

"Gibbs and Shepard?" he clarified, and Stan nodded. "Seriously?"

"I'm telling you – look at them!" Decker did look, closely. He saw Gibbs eyeing Jenny with a strange look on his face, and then looking quickly away as soon as she looked up. Shepard smirked broadly and lowered her eyes back to the report on her desk. A moment later her gaze flicked back upwards and then down again. He felt a small smirk crossing his own face as he glanced to the side, catching Burley's eye.

"Put me down for twenty-five on the end of next week."

* * *

**A/N:** Yeah … I can't explain it, haha. Like I said, it's something fun for me to do, and I enjoyed writing something that was relatively plotless and a bit fluffy for a change. I find I always end up doing angst or really complicated stuff, so this is a breath of fresh air for me. I hope you enjoyed it – and as I said, I haven't got any definitive plans about this series AT ALL. I'll just write it when I feel like doing something easy, haha. But I hope you enjoy the silliness nonetheless!

Alison xx


	2. Kiss The Girl

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing recognisable as belonging to Bellasario and/or Walt Disney. And/or anyone else. Since I fail at sticking to Disney. Woops.

**A/N:** So … I don't know why? But I always liked Paula Cassidy, and I thought Tony's thoughts on her, way back at Gitmo, would be interesting to write. Plus Tony's so good to write with different women as a challenge.

* * *

**Kiss The Girl  
From Disney's **_**The Little Mermaid**_

_There you see her__  
Sitting there across the way  
She don't got a lot to say  
But there's something about her  
And you don't know why  
But you're dying to try  
You wanna kiss the girl_

_Yes, you want her  
Look at her, you know you do  
Possible she wants you too  
There is one way to ask her  
It don't take a word  
Not a single word  
Go on and kiss the girl_

_Sha la la la la la  
My oh my  
Look like the boy too shy  
Ain't gonna kiss the girl  
Sha la la la la la  
Ain't that sad?  
Ain't it a shame?  
Too bad, he gonna miss the girl_

_Now's your moment  
Floating in a blue lagoon  
Boy you better do it soon  
No time will be better  
She don't say a word  
And she won't say a word  
Until you kiss the girl_

_Sha la la la la la  
Don't be scared  
You got the mood prepared  
Go on and kiss the girl  
Sha la la la la la  
Don't stop now  
Don't try to hide it how  
You want to kiss the girl_"Who drinks sarsaparilla?"

Sha la la la la la  
Float along  
And listen to the song  
The song say kiss the girl  
Sha la la la la  
The music play  
Do what the music say  
You got to kiss the girl

You've got to kiss the girl  
You wanna kiss the girl  
You've gotta kiss the girl  
Go on and kiss the girl

* * *

"Alan Ladd, apparently," Tony DiNozzo said with a shrug. The barman merely raised an eyebrow and set his jaw, and DiNozzo grimaced slightly. "How 'bout a ginger ale?"

"You got it." Tony rolled his eyes and swivelled around on his barstool, focussing his attention instead on the woman he was here to observe. She definitely looked good in that dress. And she had not been at all what he had been expecting after hearing that she may or may not have been involved in the smuggling of emeralds from Afghanistan. Normally that would be enough to put even Anthony DiNozzo off his game, but not with this woman. Paula Cassidy was … damned if he knew what she was. She was just different, somehow.

"Thanks," he said, handing over a banknote to pay for his drink and turning immediately back to watch Cassidy on the other side of the room. He told himself he wasn't jealous of the man she was currently dancing with – the slimy looking one. He would have expected she would have better taste. The man's hand slid down her back, and she caught it by the wrist, quirking an eyebrow at her partner as she corrected his hold firmly. Tony smirked internally. He would bet good money he could get her to forget to correct **his** hold.

The thing was, he wasn't the kind of guy who normally fell this hard and this fast. Sure, he was persistent, and he would chase a woman if he were really attracted to her – but more often than not that was for the fun of the chase, and not so much about the end result. But he was most definitely interested in this rend result. Paula tried to pretend she wasn't interested, but he was sure he could charm her. He was almost one hundred percent certain, in fact, that if he could just get her to sit down with him for … ten minutes, that he could convince her to give him a chance. Maybe ninety-five percent.

He took a long drink from his glass, counting in his head the seconds that passed before Paula removed this new man's hand from her knee as he perched himself on her table. Sure enough, less than ten seconds later, she had stood from her chair and was walking purposefully away from him, in the direction of … Tony turned on his stool quickly, grimacing. It appeared he had been caught.

"Gibbs send you to spy on me?" He considered his answer carefully. He didn't want to lie, but damned if he was going to tell her the truth either.

"What makes you think I'm not just interested in you?" She smirked.

"Oh, I know you're interested in me, DiNozzo," she assured him. "A little more interested than I suspect Gibbs would like, if you're here on his orders. What are you drinking?"

"Sarsaparilla."

"Ginger ale," the barman elaborated after Paula had shot him a questioning look. Tony wondered briefly if there were any men here who weren't under her spell, and then snorted to himself. Of course there weren't. Except Gibbs, probably. He shuddered involuntarily. He certainly **hoped** Gibbs wasn't.

"So you're on the job then," Paula surmised accurately. "Too bad. I guess that means you'll just have to wait to try your luck. Unless, of course, I decide I'd rather take one of these guys home with me instead of standing around waiting to watch you make a fool of yourself … which is likely."

"I got time," Tony shrugged. "And I'm not worried."

"Oh really?"

"Really," he confirmed, draining his glass and turning to look her full in the face. "You aren't sleeping with any of them, and you have no intention of it either. You never dance with the same guy more than once; you don't let them buy you drinks; you engage them in conversation but keep the topics light and as far from your personal life as possible …"

"And, how would you know what I talk about with other men, Tony?" asked Paula, but she couldn't hide the smirk that was spreading slowly over her face. He returned it with one of his own.

"I didn't, but your reaction tells me I was right," he informed her, absurdly pleased with himself when she snorted. He liked knowing that he was able to get a reaction out of her, especially after watching so many other men fail to do the same. She tilted her head curiously, watching him as though trying to figure him out, and he grinned broadly as he waited for her to give up. He wondered if she knew what was going through his head right now. She was close enough that if he were to move forward even just a few centimetres, he could kiss her, and she probably wouldn't have time to pull away. He was, in fact, considering doing just that. He rakes his eyes appreciatively over her figure, enjoying the slow smile that crossed her features as she finally realised what he was thinking about. She leaned towards him, and he tilted his head in anticipation.

"You're a pig," she breathed, her breath brushing over his lips as she hovered close to him. But there was a laugh in her tone, and a distinct sway to her hips as she turned and sashayed away. Tony struggled to wipe the grin from his face as he fumbled for his ringing cell phone, and there was a little too much cheer in the "Yeah boss?" that he greeted Gibbs with. Duty called for now, but there was no doubt in Tony's mind that Paula had **wanted** him to kiss her. And like he had said – he had time.


	3. No Fear

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing recognisable as belonging to Bellasario and/or Walt Disney. And/or anyone else. Since I fail at sticking to Disney. Woops.

**A/N:** Okay so I really wanted to include everyone, and SOMEHOW this became a fic about … Gerald. With Ducky, Tony and Abby being their usual selves, of course. Consider this a pre-series oneshot. Somewhere between funny and crazy? (Abby stars as Odette, Tony as Puffin, Gerald is Jean-Bob and Ducky is Speed).

* * *

**No Fear  
****From Colombia Tristar's **_**The Swan Princess**_

_Odette:__ We're off on a mission  
We're tough; in good condition  
__Puffin:__ We're short  
__Odette:__ But standing tall  
__All:__ No fear! _

_  
__Odette:__ There's danger around us  
__Jean-Bob:__ They'd hurt us if they found us  
__Speed:__ Our backs are to the wall  
__All:__ No fear! _

_  
__Odette:__ 'Cause we have all the courage we require  
__Puffin:__ Take it from a frequent flyer  
__Odette:__ Try your luck  
__Odette & Puffin:__ Our plan will fly  
__All:__ No fear! _

_  
__Jean-Bob:__ This plan if applied'll  
Be simply suicidal!  
You'll be a sitting duck  
__All: __No fear! _

_  
__Jean-Bob:__ Suppose that I do this  
Who knows if we'll live through this?  
How 'bout a kiss for luck?  
__Odette:__ No  
__Puffin & Speed:__ Fear _

_  
__Odette:__ Our team is shy one green, web-footed volunteer  
__Jean-Bob:__ No way, Jose  
No chance!  
__Speed:__ No choice  
__Odette & Puffin:__ No fear! _

_  
__All:__ No fear!  
No fear!  
No fear! _

_  
We will take any dare that the other side'll dare to dream up  
We'll fight tough; we'll play fair  
But we're sure to win because we'll team up. _

_  
__Jean-Bob:__ I'm shaking!  
I'm leaking!  
__Speed:__ He's freaking, frankly speaking  
__Jean-Bob:__ We're riding for a fall  
__All:__ No fear! _

_  
__Jean-Bob:__ She's gaining!  
She's faster!  
We're heading for disaster!  
__Puffin:__ Our hero, warts and all!  
__All:__ No fear! _

_  
__Jean-Bob:__ I would be fine if one of us knew how to steer!  
__Puffin:__ Get a grip!  
__Speed:__ Get set  
__Puffin:__ That's our respect!  
__Jean-Bob:__ No breaks!  
__Speed:__ No sweat  
__Puffin:__ And no regrets!  
__Jean-Bob:__ We're dead!  
__Speed:__ Not yet  
__Jean-Bob:__ Oh no, not there!  
__All:__ No fear!_

* * *

"Y'all are crazy, you know that?" Gerald Jackson informed his colleagues, shaking his head despairingly. He had known them to come up with some mad schemes before, but this was insane even for Abby Sciuto. Said forensic scientist pouted slightly as she leaned closer to him.

"What's the worst that could happen, Gerald?" she asked, trying, he suspected, to sound persuasive. He snorted.

"Other than Gibbs finding out and killing me slowly and painfully?" he asked dryly.

"He won't find out," Tony DiNozzo chimed in. "He'll never suspect you, Gerald. He'll assume it was Abby or me and storm around glaring at us for a few hours, until his inner lie-detector realizes that we're being totally honest when we say that we're not responsible."

"But you will be responsible," Gerald pointed out. "You're the ones putting me up to it."

"Yeah, but it's much easier to hide **that** from Gibbs than if we do it ourselves," DiNozzo argued, somewhat convincingly. Gerald shook his head again.

"Y'all are definitely crazy," he muttered.

"They do have a point, Gerald," chuckled his mentor, Donald 'Ducky' Mallard. "Of everyone in this building, you, my boy, are possibly the least likely suspect."

"That's because I'm too smart to do it in the first place!"

"But just think about how great an achievement it would be to pull it off," Abby pointed out excitedly. "Knowing you'd got one over on _Gibbs_? Now that would be something to be proud of. Everyone would be like, super-impressed."

"Only if they knew, which would mean I had died because Gibbs would know too," he argued right back, and Abby scowled.

"I really resent that you think any of us would be stupid enough to tell Gibbs," she sulked.

"If he were holding your Caf-Pow ransom? You'd sell me out in a heartbeat," Gerald scoffed, unmoved by her mock-hurt expression. She knew it was true, just as he did, and he refused to be guilted into partaking in their ridiculous ideas.

"We have too much on Abby for her to do that," Tony intervened confidently. "We all know far too much about one another to ever sell each other out, even to Gibbs – or especially to Gibbs, depending on how you look at it. If Abby ratted you out, you could tell him what really happened to his favourite jacket – the one I convinced him he really **hadn't** left in the office over the weekend last month."

"Tony!" Abby exclaimed, clearly scandalised. "You promised!"

"Incidentally, whatever did happen to that jacket?" Ducky asked, amusement colouring his tone. "I could have sworn I saw a picture of it on television …"

"You did," Tony smirked. "The guy in that recruitment ad for the Housing for the Homeless project has a jacket very, VERY similar to Gibbs' missing one. You know – that program that Abby just happens to be very involved in?"

"Oh, Abigail," Ducky said with a small chortle, and she rolled her eyes.

"Gibbs has loads of jackets!" she said defensively. "And Marcus isn't just some guy paid to advertise – he's one of the guys whose life has been changed by the project. His house was burned down when he was thirteen – he lived on the streets for eight years, before he came to the attention of the project leader. He's never been happier – and that jacket looks so good on him! Just because he has a house now doesn't mean he's rich. He didn't even have a jacket before. And it makes him look distinguished – like the silver-haired fox."

"So let me get this straight – you stole Gibbs' favourite jacket and gave it to a formerly-homeless man for a TV ad?" Gerald clarified, and Abby nodded happily. He shook his head for the umpteenth time. "And you wonder why I don't want to get involved in your plans."

"Look, if Gibbs hasn't figured that out yet, then surely it shows that he won't figure out that you're involved?!" Abby tried.

"Even if I did agree to this – which, for the record, I'm **not** –" he emphasised, and her face fell, "but even if I did, who's to say we wouldn't get caught? I happen to have become quite accustomed to opposable thumbs!"

"Is there really anything Gibbs could do to you that wouldn't be worth getting us to leave you alone?" Tony asked with a grin, and Gerald rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah."

"Gerald …" Ducky said with a resigned shake of the head. "I fear I must agree. Their presence here is interfering with your work, which is interfering with my work, which in turn is interfering with Gibbs' work. Either way we're going to have one very unhappy Special Agent on our hands. It might be easier if you were just to agree and get the worst over with."

"No thanks, Doc," Gerald replied flatly, but the good doctor merely laughed.

"I don't really see that you have a choice," he pointed out. "Either you agree now, and that's the end of the matter, or you continue to argue the point for so long that one of two things happens – one, Gibbs gets angry at the lack of a Senior Field Agent on his team, and you have to bear with his anger anyway, or two, you go crazy with their continued presence and give in anyway. Either way, I'd say you're fighting a losing battle, my boy!"

"Thanks for the support, Doc," Gerald muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Abby bounced on the spot and clapped happily, and Tony produced a folded piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket, beaming.

"Any time," Ducky promised, turning his attention onto some paperwork. Gerald groaned aloud as Tony dragged him over to an empty table and slapped the unfolded sheet of paper in front of him.

"All right, Gerald," he said briskly, "here's the deal. While Abby's busy distracting Gibbs in quadrant C, _here_, I'll be keeping watch at the entrance to quadrant B. Ducky will have his eyes on quadrant A, just in case Abs loses the boss man, and I've managed to recruit half a dozen of the girls downstairs to guard quadrant D with their lives. Meanwhile, you'll be in quadrant B – I'm your backup – and _this_ is your action plan. Memorise it. Do it. Then forget it. Eat this paper once you know your mission off by heart." He folded the piece of paper to Gerald with a sombre nod. "All right then. Operation Sweeten Gibbs' Coffee will commence tomorrow at zero-nine-hundred. Campfire over."

DiNozzo and Abby swept from the room looking far too confident, and definitely far too pleased with themselves. Ducky was smiling slightly as he pulled on his scrubs, instructing Gerald to lay out Petty Officer Garrett on the table, and Gerald once again shook his head as he slid the piece of paper into his drawer. The least they could have done was come up with a decent code name.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm really not sure what to say. I always love the rare occasions when Gerald actually talks and makes jokes, and I thought there was a need for this. I guess this is the part where I apologise …? Haha. Well, I had fun writing it, anyway, which was the main objective! Hope you got some laughs out of it anyway.


	4. Strange Things

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing recognisable as belonging to Bellasario and/or Walt Disney. And/or anyone else. Since I fail at sticking to Disney. Woops.

**A/N:** For some reason, I've always wanted to write something set around the Burley/Gibbs/DiNozzo triangle in the season one episode _High Seas_. And this song seemed to fit, so here are my thoughts on Tony's thoughts on the events of that episode!

* * *

**Strange Things  
From Disney Pixar's **_**Toy Story**_

_I was on top of the world  
it was right in my pocket  
I was living the life  
things were just the way they should be  
When from out of the sky like a bomb comes some little punk in a rocket  
now all of a sudden some strange things are happening to me__f the one whom I adored_

I had friends,  
I had lots of friends  
Now all my friends are gone  
And I'm doing the best I can to carry on

I had power (power)  
I was respected (respect)  
But not any more  
And I've lost the love o

Let me tell you about the strange things are happening to me  
Strange things  
Strange things are happening to me...  
Ain't no doubt about it

You got someone you think you know well  
It turns out a stranger  
The minute you turn your back  
You're in it all by yourself

They laugh at your jokes,  
You think you're doing well  
But you're in danger, boy  
You end up alone, forgotten, way up on the shelf

Strange things are happening to me  
Strange things  
Strange things are happening to me  
Ain't no doubt about it

Strange things are happening to me  
Strange things  
Strange things are happening to me

Strange things  
Strange things

* * *

"_It's not the same thing, you know. You and Gibbs; Burley and Gibbs."_ Tony let out a long breath and threw down his pen, resigning himself to the fact that he had long since stopped reading this report. He knew it wasn't the same thing, but that didn't matter. It didn't have to be the same thing. He hadn't expected it to be the same thing. Being just different would have been fine with him – he could deal with different. But it had felt distinctly like 'Burley and Gibbs' was **better** than 'DiNozzo and Gibbs,' and that bothered him. What was so great about Burley anyway? Sure, he seemed nice enough. Decent enough Agent. Funny, if you liked that kind of humour. Which apparently, Gibbs did. Tony didn't think he had heard Gibbs laugh so much … well, ever.

But really, it wasn't like he hadn't worked just as hard as Burley over the last few days. He had run around that carrier, keeping an eye on Kate while Gibbs was preoccupied with Golden Boy, conducting interviews and doing grunt work while Burley sat watching videos. Videos. Yes, fine, it was tedious work and the guy hadn't complained about it, but that wasn't a reason to give him a freaking knighthood, was it?! It had really been getting on Tony's nerves. And the worst part – well, maybe not the worst, but close to it – had been that he was almost positive that Gibbs knew what was running through his mind. And had the older man even attempted to reassure him? Of course he hadn't, because he was Gibbs, and that wasn't how he functioned. If he were honest with himself, Tony wasn't sure that he really knew how Gibbs functioned, actually. He was just Gibbs. But Burley had seemed to have an insight into the way the boss' mind worked. That had gotten on Tony's nerves, too.

Maybe it was because Stan had been around during one of the divorces – Tony guessed number three, although Ducky had realised his error and clammed up before revealing that particular detail. Maybe Gibbs had been more emotional going through the divorce and it had made him closer to his team? Tony snorted to himself. Unlikely. Or maybe … maybe it was pre-divorce Gibbs who had been different; maybe married Gibbs was more relaxed. An even louder snort. Even more unlikely.

So what was it then? It couldn't have been Gibbs; of that, Tony was fairly certain. The man didn't seem to have changed in all the time Ducky had known him, which was definitely longer than Burley had. So he was back to square one: what was it about Stan Burley that made him so perfect? He found himself listing pros and cons of the man in his head, although he stopped short of making a physical list that Gibbs or Kate might stumble across the next day. Burley was funny, as he had said. Gibbs did laugh at his jokes. He didn't laugh at Tony. Well, **at** him, yes; but never with him. But maybe they just had different senses of humour, and that was okay. It must be something else. Burley wasn't afraid to stand up to Gibbs, if the snippets of conversation he had overheard were anything to go by. But neither was DiNozzo. He guessed he was a lot more flippant about it; maybe he seemed more like he was goofing around than Burley? But Gibbs wouldn't keep him around if he thought he was just wasting time …

"You're pathetic," Kate's voice intruded on his thoughts, and he jumped about a foot in the air. He glared up at her; leaning on the partitioning beside his desk and smirking knowingly down at him.

"Don't do that," he ordered her.

"Seriously, DiNozzo; I didn't think I could think any less of you, and yet … here we are."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"You're sitting here stewing – sorry; I ought to say **still** stewing – over the fact that you think Gibbs likes Stan better than you," Kate informed him, barely concealing her laugh.

"I see it's 'Stan' now," he retorted, surprising himself with the note of bitterness in his tone. "You two get all cosy watching movies, did ya? Popcorn and blankets; a bit of mood lighting?"

"Wow," she breathed, shaking her head in despair, "you really are jealous."

"I am not jealous!"

"Oh really? So you haven't been sitting here for two hours trying to figure out what it is about Burley that makes Gibbs treat him differently from you?" There was a beat of silence.

"All right, maybe I'm a little jealous."

"You're five years old, DiNozzo."

"Am not," he retorted, sticking out his tongue, clearly proving her wrong.

"You are. You're behaving like a spoilt child whose daddy went to play with his brother for ten minutes and who can't deal with it. You are an only child though, aren't you?"

"That's got nothing to do with it," he snapped, but she just sighed exasperatedly.

"Of course it hasn't," she agreed patronisingly. "Look, Tony … Gibbs is just Gibbs. Just because he doesn't treat you the same, doesn't mean he thinks any less of you. Besides, didn't you hear what Burley said about Gibbs not getting his name right for four years? Or are you just ignoring that and focusing on the sandwich?" Tony glared at her in silence, and she snorted. "Yeah, my point exactly, DiNozzo."

"I don't care if Gibbs treats Burley differently to me, Kate!" he finally exploded. "All right? It doesn't bother me that it's different – it's the fact that the guy is annoying and a little weasel, and Gibbs still likes him **better**!" Her eyes had widened as she looked somewhere over his shoulder, and Tony cringed. "He's right behind me, isn't he?"

"Go home, Agent Todd," Gibbs' voice came from behind him, and he gulped nervously. Kate shot him a sympathetic look before gathering her bag and coat and escaping quickly. Tony kept his back to his boss for a few moments. "Turn around, DiNozzo." Preparing himself for a slap on the back of the head, Tony turned and looked up at Gibbs, who was standing in front of his desk, looking down at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"How long you been standing there, boss?"

"Long enough."

"That's what I was afraid of … let me, boss." Tony reached up to smack himself upside the head, and was shocked when Gibbs' hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could do so. Gibbs glared down at him.

"I give you permission to do that, DiNozzo?"

"No boss, but I thought that –"

"See, there's your problem," Gibbs interrupted. "I never thought I'd say this, but … you think too damn much, Tony." DiNozzo started at the use of his first name.

"But boss, I –"

"Give it a rest, DiNozzo," Gibbs cut him off once more. "Drink your coffee, and go home."

"Coffee?" Tony repeated. Gibbs' eyes flicked downwards, and Tony's followed their path. Sitting innocently on his desk, where there certainly hadn't been one before, was a steaming cup of coffee from Gibbs' favourite place. He felt a smile tugging at his lips as he took a sip. Exactly how he liked it. "Gee, boss, I'm flattered that you remem-"

"Go home, DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked from where he was already standing inside the elevator. The doors slid closed, and Tony allowed his ridiculous grin to break across his face. He downed the sweet, hot drink in one long gulp and shrugged his jacket on.

"Love you too, boss."

* * *

**A/N:** I know that at the end of the episode Stan helps Tony resolve his insecurities, but this plot bunny was just too cute to remain homeless, I thought!


	5. Can You Feel The Love Tonight?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing recognisable as belonging to Bellasario and/or Walt Disney. And/or anyone else. Since I fail at sticking to Disney. Woops.

**A/N:** Okay so I've never written Tiva before and I'm not sure how this is going to work out, but I'm trying to cover everyone here … so don't hate me, ok? Thanks ;)

Oh, and I decided to use the Elton John full version of this song, rather than the version actually in the movie … I just love these lyrics, and they seemed slightly more fitting somehow.

* * *

**Can You Feel The Love Tonight? - Elton John  
From Disney's **_**The Lion King**_

_There's a calm surrender  
To the rush of day  
When the heat of a rolling wind can be turned away  
An enchanted moment  
And it sees me through  
It's enough for this restless warrior just to be with you_

_And can you feel the love tonight?  
It is where we are  
It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer  
That we got this far  
Can you feel the love tonight?  
How it's laid to rest  
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds  
Believe the very best_

_There's a time for everyone  
If they'd only learn  
That the twisting kaleidoscope moves us all in turn  
There's a rhyme and reason  
To the wild outdoors  
When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours_

_And can you feel the love tonight?  
It is where we are  
It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer  
That we got this far  
Can you feel the love tonight?  
How it's laid to rest  
It's enough to make kings and vagabonds  
Believe the very best_

_It's enough to make kings and vagabonds  
Believe the very best_

* * *

"A date?" Ziva repeated incredulously, staring at her partner as though expecting him to sprout an extra head. Tony DiNozzo shifted uncomfortably from one foot onto the other, seeming suddenly unnecessarily interested in the ceiling tiles.

"Uh, yeah," he responded, in a tone that might have passed for casual had his voice not been a couple of octaves higher than its normal smooth baritone. "A date. You know, it's when two people go out for dinner or drinks or –"

"Yes, Tony, I am aware of what a date entails," Ziva snapped, still gaping at him.

"Well, then … I don't know; it was probably a stupid idea anyway," he muttered, seeming uncomfortable with her silence. "Let's just forget about it."

"Okay," Ziva said, still feeling shellshocked.

"Okay," he repeated, still examining the ceiling thoroughly. "Okay, good, so – so we'll never speak of this again, and Gibbs won't have to –"

"No, Tony, I mean … I mean okay, I will go on a date with you," she interrupted hastily. His jaw dropped along with his gaze as he finally met her eye. He studied her for a few moments as though waiting for her to yell 'Gotcha!' When she didn't, he opened and closed his mouth stupidly a few times.

"Are you, uh – are you serious?"

"Yes," Ziva replied with a soft smile. "That is, if you were serious," she added quickly, not wanting to appear too eager.

"Of course – I mean, yeah, I'd like that," he agreed. "So … dinner? Friday night?"

"That sounds perfect."

"All right. Well, then, get your glad rags on, David," Tony teased her, the glint back in his eye as he smirked in her direction. "I'll make the reservations and pick you up at seven thirty, if we don't catch a case." He tipped her a wink, his cocky personality officially back with a vengeance, and strolled off in the direction of the elevators. Ziva picked up her desk phone and dialled the extension for Abby's lab as soon as he was out of earshot.

"Abby?" she asked, successfully masking the mild panic she was suddenly feeling. "Do you happen to have something called a glad rag that I could borrow?"

* * *

Ziva smiled to herself as once again she caught Tony watching her out of the corner of her eye. They were in his car on the way home from their dinner date, which she had to admit had been extremely pleasant. More than pleasant, if she were being honest with herself. It had been fun and relaxed, and she had felt none of the usual first date jitters that she had been expecting. In fact, from the moment he had appeared at her door with a single red rose in one hand and his trademark cheeky grin plastered across his face, everything had felt natural, and … just right, somehow.

They hadn't stopped laughing for more than a few moments on the ride to the restaurant, which had turned out to be an out of the way bistro that Ziva had never heard of, but that she fell in love with almost instantly. The staff were charming and the décor sweet, and the food had been exquisite. Tony had been nothing less than the perfect gentleman all night – pulling out her chair for her; standing when she stood; helping her in and out of the car … and it all seemed effortless. Only once had the thought entered her mind that his manners were practised, but she dismissed it as quickly as it had come. There were certain things a man could learn, but Tony's easy charm and natural ability with women were skills that were all his own, and had he been playing her, his manner would have been more predictable. Although his actions were somewhat clichéd, they also came from his heart. Ziva let out a soft sigh as they pulled up outside her apartment building.

"Can I walk you up?" Tony asked as he killed the engine. Ziva smiled gently, hoping he understood that she didn't want to jump into anything with him. But walking to her door wasn't such a big deal.

"All right," she agreed, and he grinned broadly. Barely had she blinked before he was outside her side of the car, opening the door for her and offering her his hand. She took it with a chuckle and allowed him to pull her onto the sidewalk, closing and locking the car after her. He then offered her an arm, which she clung to as they crossed the icy road to her building and ascended the staircase.

"Ziva …" Tony began hesitantly when they arrived outside of her door. She bit her lip unsurely – as much as she didn't want to rush, she also didn't want him to think she was brushing him off.

"Would you like to come in for a drink?" she offered unsurely. A small smile crept over Tony's features, and she turned to open the door, but the feeling of his hand on her arm stopped her. She turned slowly to face him, and found him still watching her with that curious smile on his face.

"No," he said slowly, and she blinked at him.

"No?" she repeated, bemused.

"No," he confirmed more firmly, nodding as though reassuring himself.

"Oh. All right," Ziva replied somewhat lamely. "Well … uh, goodnight, then?"

"It's not … it's not that I wouldn't like to," Tony explained haltingly. "I just think – well, I **know** – that I've had a lot of dates end this way, and I don't … I don't want to risk our friendship by doing something stupid, you know? I had a lot of fun tonight, and maybe we can do it again sometime … but I think it should end here, for tonight." Ziva couldn't conceal the flush crossing her cheeks, nor her ridiculous grin. So she wasn't the only one who wanted to take this – whatever this was – more seriously than just a one night stand. She leaned forward on impulse and brushed her lips against his, resisting the urge to deepen the kiss as he responded softly. After a moment, Ziva pulled somewhat reluctantly away and smiled up into Tony's eyes.

"Goodnight, Tony," she murmured, slipping into her apartment quickly. It hadn't been a passionate kiss, or one full of fireworks, but it had been a silent promise; a promise that they would do this again soon; a confirmation that they were on the same page. And for tonight, that would be enough.

* * *

**A/N:** Arghhh, writing an NCIS pairing that isn't Jibbs! The muses were so confused! Anyway, if this was successful I'll include more Tiva in this series, but I'd love to know your thoughts. I am working on my other stories, but I've hit a MAJOR wall with GTKY, and so I'm throwing myself into Disney to get the NCIS writing juices flowing again. Sorry to those of you who're being patient – it'll be updated as soon as I can! In the meantime, a little bit of something different :)


	6. He Lives In You

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing recognisable as belonging to Bellasario and/or Walt Disney. And/or anyone else. Since I fail at sticking to Disney. Woops.

**A/N:** I promised myself I wouldn't over-Jibbs this, but that doesn't mean I can't write Jenny, right? I don't think it does. And this one doesn't have ANY Jibbs in it, which is shocking for me! Anyway, this is a Jenny-centric piece, musing on her relationship with her father. Can be set any time between La Grenouille's death and JD. It's fairly dark – well, sad, at any rate – but it has an uplifting ending, I promise! Ish ...

* * *

**He Lives In You****  
From Disney's **_**The Lion King II: Simba's Pride**_

_Night  
And the spirit of light  
Calling_

_And a voice  
With the fear of a child  
Answers_

_Wait  
There's no mountain too great  
Hear the words and have faith  
Have faith_

_He lives in you  
He lives in me  
He watches over  
Everything we see  
Into the water  
Into the truth  
In your reflection  
He lives in you_

_Wait  
There's no mountain too great  
Hear the words and have faith  
Ohh_

_He lives in you  
He lives in me  
He watches over  
Everything we see  
Into the water  
Into the truth  
In your reflection  
He lives in you_

_He lives in you  
He lives in me  
He watches over  
Everything we see  
Into the water  
Into the truth  
In your reflection  
He lives in you_

* * *

"_You have his eyes, you know."_ Jenny Shepard let out a small choke as she stared at her own reflection in the mirror. It was true; she had inherited most of her looks from her mother, but her eyes … they were all Jasper. That was the one thing her mother had ever said kindly to her; that she had her father's eyes. Other than that, her mother hadn't liked Jenny; hadn't wanted her. When she had left when her daughter was eight, Jenny didn't think a single tear had been shed in the household.

They had preferred life after she had left; Jenny and Jasper. 'That woman,' as she had been dubbed, had only ever made them both miserable. She had sneered and criticised her husband at every turn, and when Jenny had been born, her disdain had only become more pronounced for the man who had fallen in love with his daughter the way he never could have for his wife. Jenny had asked her father countless times why he had married the witch, and every single time he had responded with a sad sort of smile. '_It doesn't matter why, Jen,'_ he would tell her, using his nickname for her. _'Just think about this: if I hadn't married her, I never would have had you. Maybe I just knew.'_ And as a child, this had made her squeal with delight and hug the man she saw far too frequently and forget the question. As she had gotten older, she had learned that his response was his gentle way of deterring her; begging her not to dig any deeper. And so she never had.

She regretted that now, she thought with a heavy sigh, still unable to remove her gaze from the mirror. All those years, and she was just now discovering how little she had known about Jasper Shepard; about her Daddy. And while today wasn't her day to grieve, it had seemed inevitable that she would find herself reliving her sorrow nonetheless. She was attending the funeral of her father's closest friend from the army; standing in his place, she supposed. She had known Colonel Rickman growing up – he had actually been the one to put in a good word for her when she had decided she'd like to join NCIS after her father's death. And although he had never said as much, Jenny was almost positive he had known where her real interests lay, even then. And he definitely knew how far she had gone to get the Frog. But the good Colonel had never judged her; never said what she had always feared: that her father wouldn't have wanted any of it. The truth, as she was discovering now, was that she simply hadn't known what her father would have wanted. Maybe on some level she would have needed Rickman to tell her, but at the same time, she knew that she wouldn't have listened. Revenge was the only thing she could control, and she had thought it would give her closure. It hadn't.

Jenny had been as close to Jasper as a daughter can be to her Daddy … on most levels. But there were some things that her father just hadn't shared, and she hadn't asked about. She had known he was a Colonel, of course, and respected him; been proud of him. But the shock she had felt when confronted after his death with reports of arms trading and dirty dealings was comparable to nothing else. She just couldn't accept it. This was her father; her hero, that they were slandering. She bypassed depression and went straight to fury, and in that moment she knew that she wouldn't be able to rest until she had found the man who had not only driven her father to turn his own gun upon himself, but had destroyed his reputation as well. And Rickman had watched her spiral into obsession, never openly chastising her, and sometimes even helping her out. After all, how else would she have gotten access to the file giving her the one name she needed?

No, Jenny thought wryly, Rickman had never condoned the things she had done. But he had never stopped her, either. She supposed he had been a military man, too – his sense of honour wouldn't allow him to show any sort of encouragement towards her plans, but that didn't mean he had to dissuade her either. He could turn a blind eye; pretend not to see; and the ethical dilemma wouldn't exist. She snorted. She had even told him flat out that René Benoît was dead; shot, execution style; and he had merely levelled his gaze at her. _'I'm glad I know.'_ That was all he had said. He hadn't said he was disappointed in her, or that she had done the right thing. No, Colonel Rickman worked hard to maintain his sense of morality, even to the very last. See no evil, and no evil exists.

But all of this notwithstanding, Jenny had enormous respect for the man who had been closer to her father than a brother. She supposed thirty-five years of service together would do that. And he had been like a favourite uncle to her for her whole life; sending postcards from his travels; bringing gifts at her birthday; never once forgetting to come by if he heard even a scrap of news of her father after their paths had diverged and he was still in town when Jenny was left alone. Many was the night after Jasper's death that they could be found in Jasper's study, sharing a drink – Scotch for Rickman, wine or bourbon for Jenny, seeing as she couldn't bring herself to touch her father's drink after his death – and memories. He had let her see a side of her father she had never known; the way he was away from home, surrounded by men he loved and was willing to die for, playing a friendly game of poker or doling out punishments. She had been able to get to know Colonel Shepard, as opposed to Daddy, and she would never forget that Rickman had given that to her.

She smiled softly to herself as she reflected on the last time she had seen him. It had been too long, really, but perhaps it was better this way. She had visited him six months previously at home, and he had seemed to be fine, to her. They had stayed up until two am sharing stories and laughter, before she had confided in him about the death of the Frog. Even that hadn't ruined their visit. He had nodded sharply, absorbed the information, and moved on as though it were just another anecdote they had been sharing. When she had left, she had given him the usual hug and kiss on the cheek, and he had smiled at her and told her that she still reminded him of Jasper every time he saw her. A tear slid down her cheek now, as she recalled his final words to her. _'You've been like the daughter I never had, Jenny.'_ He must have known, even then, that he was dying, but he had said nothing. His son had told her this morning that he hadn't wanted her to spend the next months worrying about him, and that he would prefer her to remember him as he was. The unspoken words had hung in the air between them: the way she would never be able to look back on her father.

But really, she thought as she re-entered the function suite where Rickman's family and friends were gathered to mourn together and to remind one another of why they had loved him, she **could** look back on her father the way she did upon Rickman. She couldn't think of his death without feeling betrayed and hurt and angry … but through Rickman, she was able to remember his life. And through seeing herself in the mirror; through his constant reassurances that she was like Jasper; she could still find flashes of his character and his personality at odd moments. Rickman had given her the ability to find her father in herself, and that was a gift she wouldn't trade for the world.

* * *

**A/N:** Ok, it was more depressing than I intended … sorry! I find it very difficult to write upbeat, introspective Jenny – mostly because I don't think such a thing is in character, especially not when thinking about her father. I wanted to give her something good to remember about him, too, but it ended up being more about Rickman than Jasper at times. Anyway, apologies it's a little sad, but I did try to make the end vaguely happy!


End file.
